


A Call to Mueller

by spicyarnor



Series: The Prince And His Bodyguard [10]
Category: Trails of Cold Steel, 英雄伝説 閃の軌跡 | The Legend of Heroes: Sen no kiseki (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyarnor/pseuds/spicyarnor
Summary: Follow-up to A Royal Inquisition.Mueller gets a warning call from Neithardt.





	A Call to Mueller

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct followup to A Royal Inquisition, so please read that first!
> 
> A couple people had asked me to write this, so I ended up doing it. These poor men.

Olivert was halfway through his seventh rendition of Amber Amour when Mueller's ARCUS suddenly rang.  
Extremely thankful for the excuse to duck out of the train compartment for a moment, he stood near the door where the prince was still within his line of sight and answered the call.

"Mueller Vander speaking," Mueller said, flipping open the device and holding it to his ear.

"Mueller, it's me. Are you alone?" The voice was very familiar - definitely Neithardt's deep, clear tones.

"Uh, not exactly, but for practical purposes yes," The brunette replied, brow furrowing in concern. "He's practicing his lute again, and I'm at the other end of the train car. What is it?"

"Oh good," Neithardt sighed, sounding relieved. "Alright, well, I wanted to tell you that I had an... interesting surprise visit with the prince before you both left."

Mueller froze. A creeping feeling of dread began to wash over him. "…Oh. Oh no. What did he do? I am so sorry. Really."

Neithardt let out a tense sounding chuckle. "Well, he showed up in my bedroom. At night. And wouldn't leave until I told him that you didn't have a... significant other." He sounded slightly traumatized as he spoke. The poor, poor man, Mueller thought, imagining this encounter. Neithardt did nothing to deserve this. 

"He did what?" Mueller hissed, covering his mouth around the mouthpiece to muffle his voice to the nearby prince. He probably couldn't hear what with all the road noise and lute playing, but best to play it safe. "What did you tell him?"

"That I didn't think you did, of course. That you're too busy. He seemed disappointed but I got him out of there, somehow. I just... thought you should know."

Mueller stifled a groan. "Aidios save us," he swore. "Neithardt, I owe you a drink. No, scratch that, several drinks."

"I will gladly take you up on that offer next time I am in Heimdallr," Neithardt agreed, pausing. "I know it's improper to discuss, but I hope they pay you well enough."

"Oh they do," Mueller assured him flatly. "Not that it helps."

"I suppose it wouldn't," came the understanding reply. "Do you have any idea why he would ask that?"

Mueller shut his eyes. "Honestly? I have no idea why the man does ninety percent of what he does. I don't know. Maybe he just wanted to find something new to tease me about?" It briefly occurred to him that perhaps the prince's silly schoolboy crush on him was still alive, but... No, that was ridiculous. Besides, if that were the case, why would he be bothered to find out he was probably single? "My head hurts just thinking about this."

"Oh, Mueller~" Came a call from across the room. Olivert had stopped playing Amber Amour and let out a cascading trill of notes on his lute, smirking at him with interest, peeking his head out of the train compartment. "Having a secret long-distance rendezvous?"

Mueller glared at him, ice-cold. The prince just wiggled his eyebrows.

Neithardt cleared his throat on the other end of the line. "Best of luck, Mueller," he said. "I do not envy you." Then a click.

Mueller snapped his ARCUS shut, sliding it back in its hidden holster. "I'm just going to ignore that," he remarked, walking back to the compartment and taking his seat opposite the prince.

"Oh, you're such a spoilsport," Olivert pouted, setting his lute down onto the table between them. "Who was it?"

"Major Neithardt," he admitted, and the prince immediately perked up. "Just wanted to go over some reports. Business. My life is nowhere near as exciting as you think."

Olivert closed his eyes briefly, appearing somewhat disappointed, then smiled mischievously. "Well, we can always change that, can't we?"

"I'll be in charge of my own excitement, thanks," he said flatly, picking up a leather bound planner that lay next to him on the long seat, and flipping it open. "Right, so now that you're done completely running that song into the ground, let's map out the next week's schedule."

"Oh, alright," Olivert sighed, putting his elbows on the table and folding his arms. "What have we got?"


End file.
